I ADOPTED THE OLDEST SHELTER DOG WITH ONLY A MONTH TO LIVE – MY HUSBAND GAVE ME AN ULTIMATUM, “ME OR THE DOG”
After finding out Greg and I couldn’t have kids, the silence in our marriage just felt louder. One day, I suggested getting a dog. “Something to love,” I said. Greg wasn’t thrilled but agreed, as long as it wasn’t “some yappy little thing.”
At the shelter, I saw her — Maggie. A frail, gray-faced senior dog curled up in the back. Her tag said 12 years old. Hospice adoption only. She looked so tired, so defeated. But when I knelt down, her tail wagged just barely. I knew she was the one.
Greg thought I’d lost my mind. “That dog’s halfway to the grave,” he said. Then came the ultimatum: “If you bring her home, I’m leaving.”
He was gone by the time I brought Maggie home. She hobbled into the house, looked up at me, and wagged her tail a little stronger this time. I whispered, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Six months later, I was walking out of a bookstore with a coffee in hand when I bumped into Greg.
He smirked as if he’d been waiting for this moment. “Well, well, Clara. Still all alone? Let me guess — your precious dog didn’t last long. Was it worth throwing your life away?”
But suddenly, Greg’s smug expression shifted — his smirk faltered, his face twisting into shock and anger. His eyes locked on something behind me.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!” he screamed. ⬇️
